When we were on our food tour way back on Monday our guide recommended a particular falafel place in Le Marais if we were in the area again. Falafel sounded awfully good, and the restaurant was a few blocks away. It was great! Not only was the food perfect, no one yelled at me (a la New York Jewish places, for example). It was jammed, a little crazy, but we were seated right away and it was all “Bonjour!” and “Bonne journee.” Tables were literally inches apart so we ended up talking to the older man and his elderly mom at the next table. They were from Quebec, on their way back from a gorilla excursion in Africa. She is still travelling at 87!
Stray from your list
Feel the vibes and leave if you do not feel comfortable. One of our last evenings I got out my list and we headed to a recommended place. Walked out…just didn’t feel friendly. We kept going and wandered into Comptoir des Archives, a casual, kind of jammed small bistrot, and immediately felt good. I had duck confit and roasted potatoes which were both delicious, as was David’s veal stew with rice. Small wooden tables, some jostling to get seated, and a great meal.
Marches couverts
If you visit one of the marches couverts and want food to eat there, do not be shy about asking for help (after saying “bonjour” of course). You may have to muscle your way to a counter, or ask where you can sit with food from the pasta place, but do not hesitate. They are happy to feed you and these are friendly spots where spontaneous conversations are the rule. While at Marche Couvert des Enfants Rouges we met a wonderful woman from Brazil (now a Parisian), an insanely good looking couple from Florida who were working their way home from southeast Asia, directed a lost tourist to where you could buy a glass or bottle of wine. The boys from Florida summarized their trip as “Loved Cambodia, hated Viet Nam.” Anyway, one of them had been Netanyahu’s makeup guy at a television station in Israel. “The guy is a total asshole and NEVER goes out without makeup.” Explains a lot about his relationship to dear leader. The terribly nice woman from Brazil who took our picture and even though she understood English did not let me resort to it. “Only French!” she demanded. Such fun.
Jammed and fun falafelComptoir des ArchivesDuck confit Our Brazilian amieMmmmmmMarche des Enfants Rouges
From the metro stop to the museum was a walk in a large park. Almost there!
Oooh, this was a delightful surprise. I have in truth seen enough garden and water lily Monets in my lifetime and was unenthusiastic thinking it was all Monet. Yes, there is a large Monet collection but the special exhibit was L’Empire de Sommeil…an entertaining collection of paintings from many eras of people sleeping. We loved it! The accompanying book was too heavy to bring back so I am ordering it when I return, I hope. This is one of the museums a bit off the path and you do not need a time of entry ticket–just show up. So glad we did.
So poignant.pre-Rafaelite romanceThe painter’s wife and newbornA miniature—the collector’s bedroom
Le Bois, our lunch find
Hungry after such a wonderful dose of art, and the lovely walk through the park, we happened on Le Bois. Best hamburger of my life…David was more restrained and had a Caesar salad with smoked salmon. Lunch was in full swing, and the noise level climbed as more conversations launched around us. The service was great. Very warm and welcoming. Sated, we decided this was the day to explore Montmartre so we hopped on the metro and headed to the LaMarck station.
Montmartre–lovely and insane
While our hotel, which we were very satisfied with (Joyce Hotel, an “Astotel”), is at the bottom of Montmartre we had yet to explore the hill itself. Famed for its artistic history, it’s vineyard, some cool clubs, and the enormous Sacre Coeur at the tippy top, it is also a climb, with stairs, winding streets, more stairs, and even a funicular. I can imagine in the summer this place is almost unnavigable, but in the fall it was manageable and had a few nice surprises.
David’s research was great, again, as he knew there was a metro stop way up, perhaps even at the top of the hill, LaMarck-Caulaincourt. Well, it’s not quite that high, but high enough that instead of a few stairs or short escalator there is a continuously running elevator which goes from the metro platform up two stories to a street level exit. We emerged and were immediately confused about where we were and which way to go. Google maps are great…but sometimes getting your bearings takes some concentration. We wanted to wander enough to see the pretty spots, then check out Sacre Coeur, and perhaps wander all the way down to our hotel.
We walked by the famous Agile Lapin, a small club–it was named at one time A Gill Lapin (Gill was the owner) but it devolved into its current name. La Maison Rose, the vineyard, and zig zagged up and up, finally reaching the touristic insanity of Place du Tertre (jammed with artists doing caricatures and more serious portraits) and around to Sacre Coeur. It was wild how block by block this small area changes completely.
Agile LapinWhat a great shop!Working vineyardSacre CoeurLa Maison Rose
After emerging from Sacre Coeur we wandered down, down, and within a few blocks it was tranquil again. I had been looking for a local artisan store to buy earrings for our beloved dog sitter, and suddenly we were in a village-like section where I found La Fabrique du 18, the perfect place to find-and I did-the perfect earrings for Roni. As I was completing the purchase I asked the proprietor if she knew of any place that sold authentic, all wool, made in France berets for children. We had been looking everywhere but all we found were made in China. Her response? “Around the corner.” Literally around the corner was a small shop, Laulhere, that sells ONLY made in France berets and knit caps, and the woman ushered us to the children’s section where we found one for our granddaughter in a bright dark pink. Adorable.
We continued to wander down, through the former red light district, now full of musical instrument stores and lots of young people, Pigalle. We passed countless tiny food options–like kiosks built into the buildings, some just takeaway, some with two or five seats–and found ourselves a half block from our hotel. A lovely afternoon. We celebrated by going to a restaurant at the end of our block, Le Comptoir Boutary, which was spectacular. I looked it up afterward to find it is consistently rated five stars and Michelin listed. A lucky find. We drank an entire bottle of wine with dinner and were glad it was only half a block to our hotel.
Boutary version of boeuf tartare was magicalYes, drank this entire bottle.
We kept ending up in the neighborhood Le Marais…and glad we did. It is lovely, accessible, full of cool shops, food, museums, and people-watching. But first, a stop at the Lazare Boulangerie for coffee and croissant for me, coffee and pain chocolate for David. We loved this place–so bustling, friendly, always a table free. It was a two block walk down the hill from our hotel, and surrounded by metro and bus stops.
The walk from hotel to metroOur regular breakfast place.
We had the Carnavalet museum on our list for a while. If you are REALLY into history, it’s a delight–the history of Paris from ancient times through the twentieth century. It is free, there are no timed entries, you just walk in and start looking around.
We about wore ourselves out at the museum, to be honest, and we had a 4pm entry at Sainte Chapelle followed by the Conciergerie. Sainte Chapelle? Overwhelming. It seems impossible it was built in four years…and the Conciergerie is just down the street. It is interesting, different, and ultimately depressing as it includes the prison where women were kept before being executed during the French Revolution. Having read and seen lots about that era at the Carnavalet, it was entirely too vivid for me. This is where Marie Antoinette was held. Scary and sad.
It was fun to be on Ile de Cite, which in contrast to neighborhood Paris where we had spent the previous days, it is majestic Paris–the Seine, enormous buildings, lots and lots of tourists (from seemingly everywhere in the world).
A restaurant that was on my list was the famous, and very old Le Procope, which opened in 1686. It was a doable walk from the Conciergerie, so we ventured into the Left Bank (madness) and within a few blocks we were there–an hour before our reservation, but they took us. Of course we had to have historic dishes–mine was the vol au vent, a rich concoction of sweetbreads and mushrooms in a pastry shell. Oh my it was delicious and I couldn’t finish it. Polished off our requisite bottle of wine and dragged ourselves to the metro to get back before we collapsed.
Oeufs mayonnaise—we must have had this dish 5 times. Everywhere a little different and delicious. Vol au vent. Yikes.
Thanks to David’s excellent planning and ticket management we were outfitted for our Eurostar train mid-morning Sunday and without a hitch were boarded and on our way. Surprisingly there was no electrical or USB support but we were charged up and had our trusty little backup battery. Never travel without one!
Gare du Nord, our introduction to Paris
David had also researched the bus-metro pass options and combined with my French we bought just what we needed at the train station in Paris—a one week pass good for every mode. The trick is knowing it runs from Monday through Sunday, so David knew we needed a bus pass for just the one trip from Gare du Nord to our hotel. Seemed like a few moments and we were checking into the Joyce Hotel in Montmartre. Great location, pleasant hotel with warm and helpful staff, comfy room and bed. The first night, though, the room was waayyy too warm and we got little sleep. The next morning I sorted it out with the front desk and since then we have had a cool room and good sleep. Fortunately bcause we have been kicking it every day!
Here are the highlights for days one and two.
Sunday
We were tired, we were hungry, we were disoriented. After unpacking, such a joy since we are staying in one place for 10 nights, we found a close-by bistro and went to dinner. I laugh as I write ’close by’ because I don’t think you can throw a stone in this city without hitting a bistro, a brasserie (bigger, bigger menus), or a boulangerie (bakeries that usually have savory things too like quiches and sandwiches). We landed at Poni, a very friendly place that takes walk-ins and has a wonderful vibe. When we went back a few nights later the guy behind the bar remembered us and where we sat and as we left said “see you tomorrow.” I had ‘salade cobb’ as I was hungry for veggies after Amsterdam, David had his first of so-far 3 boeuf tartare. The salade was enormous, the wine just fine, the tartare very good.
Poni’s salade cobbBrioche Perdue came with 3 scoops of whipped creamGreat vibe, so friendly
We dragged ourselves back up the hill and fell into that first too-hot night and thus crummy sleep.
Monday
At 11am we met in Le Marais for a food tour through Viator. First stop, a classic boulangerie, everyone got either pain chocolate or a croissant. You know David had the pain chocolate as he has had every morning since. Following a little talk on boulangeries, historic preservation, and a some Le Marais background we walked to a fromagerie, Laurent Dubois. The owner also ages cheese for other cheese makers (I have read about this—you must have very specific attributes to age cheese…temperature, ambiance, skill). The owner has won the annual award for excellence several times, and has cases of his special creations out front. Our guide bought two cheeses, a comte aged 25 months (not exactly the same as what we get at Costco!) and a creamy, mild blue with two ribbons of hazelnuts, probably 5” high. You cut it like a pie. The guide had bought two baguettes at the boulangerie so we expected cheese and bread at some point. He walked us to a wine shop/restaurant, Vins Des Pyrenees, another award winner. A table was set for our group of ten, each place with two wine glasses. Uh oh. It was about ten minutes to noon! As soon as we were settled every two people had an enormous croque monsieur delivered, fortunately cut in two to share. I personally could eat about half. THEN we had two wines, something red I don’t remember (very good) and a delicious viogner. We were presented with the two cheeses and sliced baguettes! So much food. The blue with the viogner was recommended and yup, so good.
Historic boulangerieNot ready for what was comingThat is a half croque monsieur; couldn’t finish itOh, that comte…and the blue!ALMOST finishing up…still had meringues to goWhat was called a townhouse, later taken over by workers during the revolutionOpposite the house, a building for growing tropical plants and trees
Next we were guided through hidden gardens and picturesque streets, with a bit more history, and paused in the small Jewish area where our guide sadly told us the falafel place he wanted us to sample was closed for Sukkot. We groaned—so much food! But he had a consolation prize, a nearby chocolate shop where we each got to pick 3 chocolates and/or macarons. I am not a macaron fan but these were ethereal, and it was easily the best chocolate I have ever had. We walked some more, learned more about the neighborhood, and then a last stop at a meringue shop. I passed, David popped one down, and we hurried off to a 2pm entry at the Musee Jacquemart-Andre.
Le Marais streets
It was a bit of a trek, with a long walk and a bus ride, then more walking, and we hopped into the “avec billets” line. This is an enormous mansion, donated to the city, and as such has the large, old rooms filled with objets d’art, the original furniture (it was built at the end of the 19th century), lots of paintings, and an exhibition space which, when we visited, had a pretty breathtaking collection of the paintings by Georges De La Tour, 1593-1652. He was a successor to Caravaggio, then all but forgotten after his death until he was rediscovered in the 20th century. His work is beautiful in many respects but especially for his use of dark and light. Many paintings are illuminated by a single candle. Worth a look.
Our flight was fine, but of course sleep was on/off and we arrived quite tired. I have always assumed everything works better in Europe, but we landed in a humid airport and a long walk to a 50-minute line at passport control. Lots of people and a high-pitched alarm somewhere that was extremely annoying. All for the literal 15 seconds of passport examination; leaving we approached the source of the alarm which was deafening as we ran through the exit doors. Outside the humidity climbed and poor David was sweating as we got into a waiting, and crowded, bus. Several nice people reshuffled so we could both sit down. I guess we looked pitiful.
It was a long ride into the city where we were bleary, hot, tired, and grumpy looking for our street. It turned out to be a very short walk and we got there without mistakes thank goodness. Nice hotel—The Catalonia Vondel. There are so many small hotels in this part of the city we had trouble deciding where to book but this was a reasonably good choice. Nice staff, an elevator, and lovely room which alas we had to change because the tub-shower walls were SO high it was literally treacherous to climb into and I kept picturing the trip ending with a rush to the ER. We moved the next day to a room with a teeny bathroom but a walk-in shower. Our last 24 hours have a few issues [no maid service, very difficult to adjust the water temperature in the shower] so I cannot recommend it unequivocally. We found the location, on the edge of the museum district, just about perfect.
The Stedelijk Museum of Contemporary Art
Stedeljik Museum was our first stop because we didn’t have to book an entry time. We have gradually come to really enjoy contemporary art and this place is pretty great all around, with one masterpiece that we returned to our last day to see again. It is a short [45 minute] film by Wael Shawky titled Drama 1882, telling the story of the rebellion against the British in Egypt, ultimately crushed by the British. It is an opera, with a hauntingly beautiful score, subtitled in English thank goodness. We both loved it…so much we went back Saturday, our last day and the last chit on our museum pass, to watch it again. It is so poignant, so sad, as the citizens are betrayed by European powers and their own people [“Traitor 1, Traitor 2, Traitor 3”]. The entire film is a masterpiece. I have scoured the net looking for where else it can be seen but after a month long installation in LA I found nothing. It premiered at the Venice Bienniale last year.
The Seafood Bar
Oooh, so yummy. I suppose I should have taken pictures but we were immersed in eating and drinking. Started with 6 oysters, easily equal to the best we have ever had. Then shared the Plateau, a small lettuce salad and huge serving of smoked and cold fish and shrimp. Delectable. Then we shared an order of mixed grill, a tower of fish and shellfish grilled perfectly. We ate every bite. It was a ten minute walk from the hotel and we practically staggered back and fell into bed.
Day 2: RijksMuseum and Indonesian Dinner
Well, this place is justifiably highly recommended in every guidebook…it is enormous, the building is fantastic, the layout fairly easy [though we had to ask at the information desk where the exit was!] and the audio tour essential. The first stop on the tour is the Great Hall, a beautifully adorned, immense space with massive murals that were part of the original construction. I mention this because not long after the museum opened styles changed and all the walls were painted over in white. The audio tour device allows you to “paint” the walls white to see this travesty of modernity over beauty. As the narration explains, years later it was decided the white walls were a mistake and fortunately all the original decorations and murals were intact under the paint which was meticulously scraped away. Phew.
The title is Puck—the dogA corner of the great hall with smocked school group on the leftThis is the library. No talking. Another school group examining a ship modelThe Night Watch undergoing restorationThe galleries are so beautifulThe massive Rijksmuseum
Of course the Dutch masters are well represented and their works remain as appealing as ever. The Night Watch is being restored and behind a glass wall—but visible behind the wall and a reproduction is in the next room over so one can see the details. The tour had ample explanations of why these masterpieces of the 17th Century are as wondrous today as ever. Still lifes that entice you to reach in and take a piece of cheese; interiors (e.g. The Milkmaid) that are inviting and colorful; group portraits, such as The Nightwatch, that transport you to the scene. We loved it.
Afterward we wandered across the canal to a sweet little restaurant, Cafe Mankind, and at 12:30 we were the first people to sit down for lunch. I had learned from the massive sandwich I had had the day before that a half would suffice so we shared a smoked salmon on brown, thin, warm toast. Yummy. We returned to our room for a nap, then had a very good Indonesian dinner in honor of the colonial past and staggered back to bed.
Day 3: Haarlem Food Tour and Frans Hals Museum
We had booked a food tour in the city of Haarlem, a very short train ride, and ever worried about making our way to unknown locations on time we were an hour plus early for the tour so stopped in a nice coffee place with wifi. Thirty minutes in an American sounding guy sat next to us, a talker but an entertaining one. He was born in Indiana but had emigrated to Canada years ago and was now a Canadian citizen. Show off. We had a fun time mostly listening to him, getting in words as we could, as we explored traveling, being Canadian, his time on vacation in Haarlem (which I recommend highly…stay there and take day trips into Amsterdam) , and so forth. It passed the time and then we walked a few more blocks to the food tour.
Haarlem, a manageable amsterdamOur wonderful guide explaining chocolate Narrow residential streets where the city promotes greeneryThese enormous houses were built primarily by beerPlenty of canals…this is an actual riverThe former cathedral, now Protestant, is a jumble of buildings smashed togetherDutch cheese is similar to parmesan in that it is non-perishable meant for long sea journeys as they became a colonial power.
This food tour was more a walking tour through old Haarlem and its history—our guide introduced the tour by going through all the Dutch-American connections, place names, etc.—a walking tour with great snacks! It turned out the group was the guide, the two of us, and 3 of his buddies. We had a blast. Old Haarlem is gorgeous, with lovely restored buildings, NO CHAIN STORES as a result of city government policy, plazas, canals, narrow alleys of original buildings, built for warehouses and businesses but now residential, filled with greenery (also government policy to keep things cooler—oh, huh, is global warming a thing?), hidden gardens, little green squares surrounded by small row houses built specifically for elderly women or the disabled…everything on a small scale with no more than 3 or 3 1/2 stories per building. I yearned to go shopping in these lovely local businesses but luckily no time. Snacks started with coffee and little savory bites, then a cheese store, an outside market where we ate smoked eel (delicious) and salted herring with onions and pickles, warm donuts filled with raisins, chocolate at a local chocolatier, local craft beer and bitterballen, everything delicious and just right. The tour, we suppose because it was a group of (delightful) friends and the two of us, was four hours! We left the group at another restaurant/bar built on the top of a parking structure with a great view of the city—we had timed tickets to the Frans Hals Museum. We shook hands and left for our next immersion in Dutch painting.
Frans Hals Museum
We liked it. All on one story, surprisingly large, but by the end I felt I had seen as many Hals and Hals-adjacent portraits I would ever want to see. There was a nice surprise at the end—several rooms of the life and work of Coba Ritsema, an amazing 20th century woman painter we had never before encountered. I was sad that the only book of her work on sale was entirely in Dutch. She is worth tracking down.
We really loved Ritsema’s workThe one-story museum on a typical Haarlem street. Charming.
We headed back to Amsterdam thinking we were on a bus to the Haarlem train station but it turned out to be a bus to Amsterdam South Station. A hop onto a tram and we were back in our neighborhood. We redeemed our champagne coupons (a very generous pour) and wandered across a few canals to have a fast burger and fries supper. Easy and fun—we were worn out and looked forward to bedtime.
Last Day: Van Gogh Museum! And a return to Stedelijk for Drama 1882 redux
Oh boy. We had 9:30am tickets to the Van Gogh Museum so after a stop at our favorite bakery for rolls and coffee we hurried over. It was just opening and the line was long, but these major museums have maximum tickets/day and timed entries so while there were a lot of people it was manageable.
So many of his paintings are iconic and well known. I did my best to not take pictures of his work unless it was new to me—his chairs and a small country scene that kind of stunned me.
We like Van Gogh but here I realized how little I knew of him. (In April we had spent a few hours in Arles, his second-to-last home, so we knew a little bit about the events of his life.) This museum is fantastic, not to be missed. It is huge. We got the audio tour which was well done, and the first special exhibit was all about his time in Arles where he painted this particular family over and over and became very close with them. Van Gogh had decided to be a portrait painter and it was here, with these models, that he learned his approach. You have seen his pictures of the Roulin family if you have ever seen anything of his. He painted a version, e.g. of Postman Joseph Roulin, and then painted multiple versions; the same for his wife, a beautiful rendering of this beloved friend, over and over with subtle changes. He did the same with his self-portraits, changing the colors of the background and clothing. They are wonderful. That he was already struggling mentally adds a dimension to understanding his work in this era. He also wrote hundreds of letters to his brother Theo, fortunately and lovingly preserved and transcribed by Theo’s widow. He wrote with intensity and awe about art and what it meant to him and, he hoped, to his viewers. Many of these letters were quoted in the audio tour and wow.
I had not known that painters of this era in France, where he went to learn to paint, were excited to experiment with new science of color. Van Gogh and others used dabs of many colors to let the beholder’s eye blend into another color. In the museum they have extreme (via microscope) close ups of one of his paintings to show in detail how the shapes and colors of these dabs create depth and interest. Also little grains of sand in a painting he did at the seashore. So cool.
Dutch Lunch
We had lunch reservations at The Pantry, a tiny, famous, old restaurant a 10 minute walk from the museum. Fun and yummy.
Drama 1882 Redux
David and I were so enchanted by the movie the first time we visited Stedelijk we wanted to see it again. I wish it were widely available, e.g. on YouTube or venues in the US, but I have scoured the web without finding anything. It played at the LA Museum of Contemporary Art for a month this spring.
We had one more museum left on our pass and we chose to use it to return to Stedelijk. Friends, I cried. It is so moving, so beautiful, so very unusual. We were so happy we could see it a second time. A masterpiece. Wael Shawky. Remember that name.
Fancy Dinner with our beloved niece
We had reservations at Bak, a place that occupies a corner of the top floor of a warehouse on the river (not a canal!) renowned for its tasting menu. We had to deposit 40 euros per person to hold the reservation, and we hoped it was worth it.
In the top floor of a warehouseAn almost thrilling roseDon’t recall what this was other than deliciousDitto. And…ditto.One of 3 desserts, an orange sorbet, I think, with sherry jelly on top.
It was. These kinds of meals are such fun, and perfect for a long evening of conversation. Lauren joined us and we talked and ate for hours. Service is attentive and unfussy, food delicious, and when they didn’t have the (least expensive) rose they substituted a spectacular French rose for the same price. After gin and tonics, all that food, all that wine, we were sated to say the least. To complete the luxury of the evening we shared Uber with Lauren (we of the always take the local transit habit) and returned to our room feeling as if we had enjoyed our narrow version of Amsterdam sufficiently.
As I write this we are on the fast train to Paris for another ten days of sightseeing, museums, and food.
Our plan when traveling is to eat whatever is local (and good,of course) so we were determined to eat as much Bavarian food as our digestive systems could handle. Mission accomplished.
We were incredibly lucky to have a young friend living here who loves her city and gave us a list of favorite Bavarian restaurants and beer halls. She also steered us to several of her favorite museums…our visit wouldn’t have been nearly so fabulous or so easy without Janina’s help. It is easy to be overwhelmed in a city with so much to do.
I think we might also have been a bit wary of beer halls. In truth they are so different from any other food experience we could have chickened out entirely—and what a mistake that would have been. Sure, Bavarian food is heavy and rich, but we were only here for a week and one’s body can handle a week of anything, right?
We dug in right up to our last few hours.
First night we walk to Brunnwart and I get my first pretzel
We had had a long day–checking out of the boat, walking to the train station (painfully–my pack was too heavy), marveling at the sausage vending machine, 2 hour train to Munich, 45 minutes figuring out the metro, checking into hotel…so we really deserved an easy supper and thanks again to Janina we had one–Brunnwart, a lovely restaurant and garden a very pleasant 15 minute walk from the hotel.
The place was hopping, but we were happy to sit with our beer and wait a bit for the food, which was delicious of course. I had felt over-red-meated from the time on the boat, so was happy to order an oven fried fish with a cucumber-potato salad (and a pretzel!). I had no second chances for that salad, which is too bad. So yummy and tangy and fresh.
Beer and Bavarian food
Our first morning we took a Walkative guided tour and learned about the six Munich beers and what makes them so good. The definition of these beers is managed in the way any terroir food or drink is—e.g. you must use only local water and these days it is almost impossible to get a permit to dig a new well. We had earlier in the trip learned about Budweiser, a commercial brand which appropriated the name of an Austrian town’s brew because it wasn’t protected even though there is still that town and its beer is beloved…it is not American Budweiser. Munich has been smarter and as a result the Munich six beers are unchanged and, btw, delicious even for a non-afficionado like me. Volumes have been written on this subject so I will stop here before I make an egregious error. Know this: the local beer halls and gardens each feature a particular brand—Augustiner, Lowenbrau, etc.—and the helles, a refreshing lager style, is delicious. It is all draft in restaurants and beer gardens and halls. I rarely drink beer at home but had a half liter glass most of our dinners and does it ever go down easy. It makes Bavarian food even better.
Germany’s restaurant culture is completely different from France, where menus change often, are posted on chalkboards facing the sidewalk, and the midday meal is leisurely. And yet we managed to have long, delicious lunches almost every day, often in museum cafes, as well as big, rich suppers. Yes, we ate a lot! As usual, though, we justified our gluttony by walking most all of most days. Our last day, when we walked the English Garden, it came to 7+ miles. We needed the calories, no?
We ate so much and enjoyed it all. In this post I will tell you about a few highlights.
Lenbachhaus Museum Restaurant
It is delightful to be able to eat well and quickly at a museum cafe. We are deep in art! No time to wander off and find food!
This place was so good, and such a nice setting, we went back a second time between the Glyptotek and its sister across the square.
Creamy polenta, salty sausage, bitter kale with some sprouts to make it healthier.
They even had a museum ticket holder special dish, discounted several euros, which we had to have. Well nourished, we headed for more art.
We love beer halls and beer gardens!
Dear Janina and husband Gustav met us for dinner at our first beer garden experience and explained the ropes…self service for beer outside, table service for the meal. They took us to a favorite of theirs, an oasis in the university neighborhood, the name of which I failed to write down.
I also learned the women’s restrooms are labeled Damen. Not sure if I would have figured that out!
It was white asparagus season so that was what I had. David had his first of several pork knuckle meals and called it fine.
I dare myself to eat all of this.I obviously misunderstood just how much salad I was ordering.Well, I didn’t finish the entire potato dumpling…
Well-educated on how these mysterious outfits work, we took ourselves to Augustiner Keller, an enormous beer garden where food and drink are self-serve, and a gigantic hall with table service. We chose the hall.
What a scene. The noise level of a full hall of drinkers and eaters is difficult to convey. Talking, laughing, people coming and going with scraping of chairs and rearranging of people at long, very long tables. I had planned to have duck while in Munich but hesitated when I saw the dinner was a half duck, with a potato dumpling (they tend to tennis ball size) and cooked purple cabbage. I was sure this was too much food for me. But I ordered it anyway along with a salad to share.
The salad was a mountain, and yes, a half duck is a lot. Ate it all!
Our last full day was a holiday, Easter Monday, and we planned to walk as much of the English Garden as we could manage, which turned out to be seven miles. No human can be expected to walk that much without sustenance and we wisely stopped at the beer garden at the Chinese Tower, which is definitely not at all Chinese and the day we were there housed a 3 man band playing traditional German music. Again, hard to describe how big these gardens are…and such fun as you take a tray and go from hut to hut loading up your meal. Sauerkraut, spaetzel, donuts cooked in lard, fried potatoes, french fries, chicken…and of course plenty of beer. I wish I was sitting there right now.
That is the “Chinese” Tower in the background.A pair of Mandarin ducks!!The English Garden is huge. We never reached the northern border and still walked 7 miles.
Kaisergarten (much better eating than Kaiser Permanente)
When we returned to Oakland David dug into mail, messages, our budget, etc., and he was puzzled to see we had a charge from Kaiser Permanente (we’re not members) from a day we had been in Munich. Ah, mystery solved–Quicken had interpreted our charge at Kaisergarten as that other Kaiser.
The right one was a two metro stops from our hotel, and a few blocks’ walk through a beautiful neighborhood. I had made a reservation from caution–we’d been asked several times if we had reservations when we were just walking in and I was worried this place wouldn’t have room. Glad we did–it turned out to be quite small especially since it was too cold, even for Germans, to sit in the outside garden.
I was delighted to see beef tartare on the menu–I had had it twice in France and wanted to see how the German version differed. David ordered a dish called “meatballs” and was happy to find it was much more than that. Yummy. And we had kaiserschmarrn for dessert–an eggy pancake, torn into pieces, doused in (more) butter and some powdered sugar. We’d had some for breakfast that morning at Rischart Bakery (they’re all over the city but we went to the one on Marienplatz–highly recommended) and couldn’t hold back from trying another version.
Lovely, friendly restaurant right down to the retriever under the table next to us.
Unlike the French version, this was pure beef with condiments on top, surrounded by spicey sweet picklesKaiserschmarrn–must make this at home.
Our last Munich supper
Having traipsed, happily, all over the city seeking out delicious food we realized one major Munich dish had been neglected—the famed donner kebab sandwich. Well, to be honest I had a donner kebab sandwich from Al’s Superfood in Marienplatz, but David had not. And mine was sooo good I knew I wanted another.
Chicken, vegetables, four different sauces, crispy bun, roasted potatoes…
Lucky for us a great looking donner kebab place was a ten minute walk away.
We were definitely on the early side and as the only customers we were able to chat with the young Turkish woman working the counter. She was excited to guide us through the ordering process. Two sandwiches and an order of fries “Turkish street style.” I was delighted to see they had salty yogurt drinks, and David of course had a beer. Just yummy!
By the time we finished the place was hopping, super chill with obvious regulars—large young men talking sports. If this place was in our neighborhood we would be regulars, too. No, we didn’t figure out why “the most expensive kebabs in Germany” was the primary selling point–and they weren’t.
Munich is a lot. Three stand out as the most thrilling experiences–we were able to go from room to room in a state of delight. Peak art museum.
We had so much fun simply staring at paintings and sculpture we had never seen in books, in a special exhibition, never anywhere. And wows as a percentage I would put at 30%, off my personal experience charts. I cannot stop thinking about the wows. Thank you, Janina, for your guidance. The city has so much and you helped us prioritize.
Love of art and fascination with the artistic mind are mysterious preoccupations for me, a not-artist. I am not a skillful enough writer to use words that would convey even a bit of the awe I felt.
Our top three, and what we loved about them:
Stadtische Galeries im Lenbachhaus
I had heard of the Blue Rider school but knew nothing about it. I assumed I’ have’d seen examples simply because of all the art museums we have visited. Wrong again.
The museum itself is in a lovely space. The early Kandinsky’s, as well as Gabrielle Munter and August Macke, blew my mind. Icing on the cake–so to speak–is the excellent museum cafe that we returned to for a second lunch a few days later.
The link below is to an online selection of the Blue Rider collection.
This very early Kandinsky wowed me. I am not that fond of his late abstract work, but this experiment using a palette knife is lovely.
Pinakothek der Moderne
Turns out there are three Pinakothek museums, and we went to two of them…and “der Moderne” was a revelation. Big, tall galleries, each with a theme that is explained on a poster as you enter; mixed media, paintings, video, posters, sculpture, mixed into the theme in eye-popping ways. The building itself is tall, wide, with an enormous lobby full of fun kinetic seating that was well-exercised by the many kids of all ages. Note: Seems in Europe there is much more expectation and tolerance of small children in art spaces, which was great in our opinion. Get your kids to a museum!
This museum is best known for its industrial design collection, but frankly we were so overwhelmed with the other galleries we decided to skip that floor and head over to Alte Pinakothek across the street which was great but missed being in our top three. The competition was tough.
Always fun to see a Magritte1938 self portrait, Florence HenriGiant fantasy room
Glyptothek
We are Roman and Greek history and mythology nerds, so when we mentioned our interest in this museum to Janina and she told us how much she loved it we put on the must-visit list.
First, the building itself is impressive, with tall, domed, coffered ceilings, giant windows, and plenty of room between items to wander and circle them. We noticed everywhere in Europe the art is rarely behind glass or in cases–you can get right up close and really see the work. For these ancient sculptures this made our viewing experience feel personal–you can walk around a piece, no barriers, and it frankly was hard not to reach out and touch them (we did NOT).
The phone app they offer added so much to our understanding of what we were looking at, as did the posters in each room explaining why certain pieces were displayed together and what they represented. There was too much to absorb in one visit. And every now and then, a gasp–as in the room where a bigger than life size Apollo looks down on us mortals and even in his purely arts-patron guise is freaking powerful and impressive.
I told David I felt as if I’d just completed a masters in classical sculpture by osmosis.
Our time on the boat was suddenly winding down and we were looking forward to being on our own again. This last stop in Passau was just half a day, and given the size of the old town along the river that seemed enough.
We had an hour and a half, maybe, of a delightful tour. I am struck by how very local our guides have been…I grew up here, went to university here, now have a job where I talk about a place I know so well and love. Our guide, a young woman dressed in dirndl (and sneakers), explained the meaning of the placement of the bow on the overskirt. Married (or unavailable), widowed (or a waitress!), open to a relationship, and one other I cannot recall. Handy, I suppose.
The tiny peninsula of the old town is as picturesque as most every other small town we have visited. Because of the surrounding three rivers, though, serious floods have been a problem for centuries. Currently the part of the city that is especially vulnerable is where artists and other artistic folks live, and of course they are loathe to move. As in Cesky Krumlov the high water marks are unimaginable. In 2013 the water rose 42 feet.
After our tour David wanted to walk down to the tip of the peninsula while I hung out on the boat. It was getting hot. Several hours later the boat moved on to Vilshofen where we disembarked the next morning and hopped on the train to Munich.
When the boat arrived in Linz we saw nothing of the town as we were hustled aboard comfy touring buses. One group headed to Salzburg, Austria while we were off to Cesky Krumlov, a medieval town across the border in the Czech Republic. We had little memory of how we had made the decision and even less about our destination. It turned out just fine due to excellent guides (one on the bus, one in the town), a yummy lunch, and a pleasant afternoon walking around a very small old town.
The drive through Austrian farmland…rolling green hills, immaculate farms and small villages…took two hours that seemed much shorter. Our guide was a great storyteller and taught us a lot about the days of soviets right across the border and the evolving relationship between Austria and the Czech Republic.
About 45 minutes into the drive we passed Hallstatt, a tiny farming village, very pretty. We were through it in a blink. Our guide explained that a Chinese official, some years ago, had been touring the area and fell in love with the town. He returned to China and oversaw the building of a replica village that, unlike other European town replicas in China which are basically housing developments, is more or less a museum (and apparently a wedding destination). Well, it has generated a steady stream of Chinese tourists who come to see the real thing. Unfortunately like idiotic tourists everywhere they fail to distinguish between a real live place with real live people living real lives, and a museum. There are many tales of Chinese walking into houses assuming they are museums as in the Chinese replica. She told a personal version—a friend of hers whose husband was startled in the bathroom—and the bus driver who lives in Hallstatt was nodding along. It seemed far fetched, right? And yet we saw tens of Chinese tourists in nearby Cesky Krumlov, so it was believable.
Our guide also explained why there were so many Vietnamese restaurants across the border. During the Viet Nam war when North Viet Nam was a more rigid communist country it was much easier for North Vietnamese citizens to travel abroad to other communist countries and places like communist Czechoslovakia welcomed the tourists…and many stayed.
A happy result of the Austrian-Soviet Czech border is the wildlife-rich two kilometer wide swath that the soviets had enforced to keep people from crossing over to Austria. It is now a protected green belt.
We had been instructed multiple times that we must have our passports for this particular outing, and we did of course, but at no time were they of any use. I guess it´s a just-in-case deal but we were a bit disappointed that we crossed the border and back with nary a border guard interaction.
It is truly lovely country. Our guide pointed out the tiny “dachas” that had been built in soviet times and were used for free by Czech citizens. Now they have been built out, added onto, and are year round homes for the most part. They are cute and Russian-looking.
Although it looks like an aqueduct it is a bridge between two parts of the castle.
Suddenly we arrived and we were out of the bus walking into the town. It is fairy-tale like, with twisty streets, unbelievably uneven cobblestones, a small river running through, and a bit of an artsy feeling.
Our town guide was an extremely droll man who made the driest jokes among a densely informative spiel. It was a lot of fun. He also told us where to eat, where to walk…and we had several hours to explore. One of their local products is pencils of all things, because of nearby graphite mines. Makes sense. After the tour and a delicious lunch David and I walked literally the entire town. Then back on the bus for a gorgeous drive into Linz and our comfortable boat.
Such a pretty restaurant with fantastic food. The slices on my plate are mosaic bread dumplings. I was sure it was too much food but ate it all.
One of the unique architectural features on many buildings is a 3-D effect of the stucco (?) by scratching the surface to make it seem faceted. Hard to explain! Here is an example.
A now deceased sculpter left his mark all over the town. He made a lot of things that look like over sized fat fingers and hands.
A bench next to the river. Door to an art supply store.
It is a fun, funny, friendly and pretty little town. Glad we went!
A small fair, all locals. Except us!The line on the building is the high water mark of a flood a few years ago. Ridiculously uneven street surfaces made walking a bit annoying.
Our destination in the upper leftThrough the townThe town gate
We woke up Saturday, April 12, in Durnstein, a ridiculously picturesque Austrian town. We had signed up for the hike to the castle ruins, which seemed, when we chose it months ago, so doable. That was before we entered the lazy period that started when we got on this boat. As we looked up at the destination we gulped, but, committed, we laced up our shoes and joined our little group.
It was 8:30. The guide promised we would be back in an hour and a half and off she went, the group hurrying to catch up. It was a cool, sunny morning and the weather inspired us all as we walked up a steep cobblestone street the width of a small alley, crossed the main street (wide enough for a car, cobblestone of course) and up and up we went.
This town has 150 permanent residents and only they are allowed to drive into the old part of town. The new town is maybe .2 of a mile to the right. I hope I got those facts right.
Anyway, soon the hike got serious with steep stone steps that required close attention. The guide promised 3 stops to take photos and it was some work to catch up in time to rest a bit before we were off again. It was hard work. But the cool air, the many many wild flowers, the views, and our common determination to get to the top propelled us all.
It was worth every huff and every puff.
UpAnd upFlowers everywhereAnd up…the Danube waaay down thereJust below the ruins
At the top we learned that Richard the Lionhearted had been kept prisoner there, waiting for a ransom to be paid. He wa alowed to hint, go into the town, and live a nice enough life as one could when one is not allowed to leave and return home. Having seen this place I now want to learn more about the details of this fellow’s life.
David coming down from the tippy topHad to get a few more flowers inWhen we came down it was hard to believe we had climbed up!
Because we all wanted at least a half hour to see the town itself we hurried down a different route that was fairly steep but without steps. Thank goodness. Suddenly the guide stopped, excitedly pointing to the side of the trail. It was an emerald lizard, a good luck symbol. The lizard rather deliberately walked away into the vegetation. She was indeed bright green. Neat!
The nicest chocolate maker. She was from Ukraine, talked a mile a minute in German saying her German was poor. We switched to French. Adorable doggieJust a gate and flowersWe got back in time!
In the town I rushed to get to the chocolatier’s store, only because I had a tradition to keep, buying chocolate in as many places as I could—only chocolate made locally. I had a great time tasting and choosing a poppyseed chocolate and another with apricots and almonds. This area grows apricots that are prized throughout the region…you cannot buy them in supermarkets and they are controlled by the government the way champagne is by France. So of course I also bought a very small jar of preserves. One must support the local economy.
Many of us went up top to watch the valley glide by.
The boat left at 10:45 and many of us went up top to see the Wachau Valley. The Danube runs between steep hills, almost mountains, gorgeous and peaceful.
After lunch we left for a boring, too long tour of the Melk Abbey. No indoor photos are allowed as there are still 21 monks living there. The guide was wonderful but we had to stay an additional hour with little to do while the boat moved on to Ybbs where we were driven to meet it by the tour bus. Not our favorite afternoon…but the morning was amazing.
Melk Abbey courtyardMelk AbbeyView of the town of Melk Not the Danube
I read later that the restoration of the Abbey, completed in 1996, was financed largely by the sale of the Abbey’s Gutenberg bible to Harvard. Seems interesting enough to have been mentioned on the tour. Oh, well.
Inescapably Rational 